


Those Who Deserve It

by egosoffire



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Bullying, Gen, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6720892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egosoffire/pseuds/egosoffire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teenage AU. Frank finds Matt being harassed by older bullies and does something about it. Written for the Daredevil Kink meme prompt here - http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/8423.html?thread=16107239#cmt16107239</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Deserve It

Frank knows he's not necessarily a great person. At fourteen, he's in trouble more often than not. He gets into schoolyard fights constantly, especially with those who deserve it.   
  
And oh, this time he's found those who deserve it.  
  
It's these two guys from his class, Randall and James. They're bullies, absolute terrors, and the current object of their games happens to be a tiny little kid from the middle school - and Jesus, he's blind! Frank spots the white-tipped red cane in front of him and groans internally. How screwed in the head do you gotta be to pick on a little blind boy? Seriously, teachers were always trying to tell him that he had problems, but evidently, there was a whole different level of messed up out there.  
  
"Hey!" he yells, just as Randall pushes the kid.   
  
Naturally, the blind kid stumbles and falls on his ass. Both of the bullies look towards Frank, but the little kid sits paralyzed to the spot and doesn't look.   
  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he asks, approaching.  
  
"None of your business."   
  
"None of my business?"   
  
Frank laughs at that. He can't help laugh.   
  
"Oh, it's my business," he says. "It's very much my business."  
  
He lashes out and slams his fist into the larger idiot's face. Randall staggers back and clutches his nose, which crunches under the blow. Frank feels something akin to the greatest relief in his life. His friend goes for him and grabs his shoulder. Frank spins him and he goes down, hard.   
  
He gets on top of the smaller one and his fists do the talking for him. Each blow feels empowering, makes him want to see blood. Frank knows, for a fact, that he's a little messed in the head, but he knows the way schools work. Things like this go unnoticed until someone has the balls to step up and do something about it.  
  
That's, of course, when teachers decide to get involved. He hears yelling, but he's so focused on doing his job, beating on the jackass beneath him. He cannot stop. He refuses to stop. He growls as he beats the everloving shit out of the asshole beneath him.  
  
He's eventually pulled away by two security guards. They have a tight grip on him.   
  
"You fuckin' idiots!" he yells. "You'd just let them beat the shit out of that blind kid."   
  
He has a feeling they don't care.

\---

Frank sits in the principal's office, arms crossed. He's been in this position many times, but his defiance never quite fades. He knows very well that he doesn't deserve to be in trouble. He also knows that he inevitably will be punished for his desire to help the weak, helpless young man.  
  
"So tell me what happened," says Mr. Banales, the principal of the school. He's a man in his early fifties, wearing a tight grey suit. He stares at Frank like there's something wrong with him. "Mr. Castle, what happened today is a very serious matter. We only refrained from calling the police on the insistence of Matthew Murdock, a middle-school student who was at the scene."  
  
"The blind kid?" Frank asks.   
  
"Yes," Mr. Banales responds quietly. "Mr. Murdock was very convinced that you saved him. Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
Frank sighs. He knows that no matter what he says, they're not going to believe him.  
  
"I came across those two dicks - Randall and James - beating the shit out of the blind kid."   
  
"Please watch your language, and do not forget where you are, Mr. Castle."   
  
Frank sighs heavily.   
  
"They hit him, and knocked him over," Frank says, simply. "So, I handled the situation."   
  
"Did you think about going to a teacher, or one of the security guards?"   
  
"I've tried that before," Frank tells him, looking the man straight in the eye. "I've told people like you about kids getting hurt before, you know that?"   
  
"You have?"   
  
"Sure have," Frank says plainly. "Every single time I have tried, I have been brushed off, treated like I'm stupid. It's always 'we have it under control' and 'don't worry.' I've kind of stopped trying that route when mine is much more effective."   
  
"Frank," Mr. Banales replies, looking deep into his eyes, like he's trying to reach him or something. Frank finds that really annoying. "I'm not at all unsympathetic to the struggle you're going through, or what you did for that boy. I think that you're very brave. Unfortunately, this is a zero-tolerance school, as far as violence goes. You're going to be suspended this week and I will be meeting with your parents to discuss options for you in regards to anger management."   
  
"I don't have an anger issue," Frank murmurs, breaking the 'deep and meaningful connection' between them by looking away. "I just don't like to see vulnerable people get taken advantage of. I'm sorry, okay?"   
  
"I understand, Frank. Go outside and wait for your parents."

\---

Frank meets Matt, the blind boy, two days later. He's suspended and his parents are furious, so he spends a lot of time at the little park near the school. He's sitting near the little lake at it's center, staring out onto the green water. He jumps when he hears a cane scraping the concrete near him.   
  
"Hi..." the boy says tentatively. "I don't know if you remember, but I'm Matt. You saved me two days ago..."   
  
Frank nods.   
  
"Come on, sit down," he says, patting the bench as he sits. The boy joins him. "How did you know I was out here?"   
  
"School just got out," says Matt. "I asked people and they showed me where you were."   
  
Frank's not sure what kind of people study his whereabouts, but he doesn't press the matter, at all.   
  
"Thank you," Matt says, suddenly, his voice earnest and small. He looks toward Frank. Frank finds it a little weird that he cannot see the kid's eyes at all under his dark glasses. "Thank you so much. I was kind of frozen in place, and I just couldn't say anything, but...you saved me. Those guys had been harassing me for days and I was...really scared."   
  
Frank can tell, even with the glasses on, that the kid is sincerely thankful - and those bastards had really scared him.   
  
"Don't worry about it," he says gently. "They'll think twice before they pick on someone like you again..."   
  
The kid looks up at him then, stare intense, even behind the glasses.  
  
"I'm not weak," he says, defensively. "I know that you think I am. I just got scared, because they were both a lot bigger than me, and they really wanted to hurt me for no good reason. I'm blind, but there are other things that I can do."   
  
"I know there are," Frank replies, matter-of-factly. He's not sure what the kid is referring to, but he wants him to know that he's not going to get any pity from Frank's end. Frank knows better than to pity someone just because of a simple disability. "Seriously, I don't think you're weak at all, Matt. Okay? Assholes like those two just like to pick fights with those smaller than they are."   
  
The boy seems okay with his answer and nods.   
  
"I get a lot of people like that," he says sadly, and Frank can't help note that his voice sounds a lot older than his body.   
  
"Hey, you can't help it," he says casually. "You were born the way you were born and that's that."  
  
Matt shakes his head.  
  
"I wasn't born like this."  
  
Frank's a little surprised by this. He had honestly assumed that the younger boy had to have born blind.   
  
"Really?" he asks. "I don't wanna pry, but..."   
  
"It's okay," Matt says, squeezing his fists together. "I was nine, so it was just a few years ago. There was this old man in the road, and I pushed him out of the way. These...these chemicals spilled and I got them in my eyes..."  
  
Frank looks over at him for a moment. He can tell, in those few seconds, that the boy next to him is something special.   
  
"You saved some old dude's life?" he asks.  
  
"Well, maybe not," Matt murmurs, shrugging. "Maybe he'd be the blind one now. Or, maybe he would have died. I mean, old people don't handle getting hurt very well... Maybe I did. I don't know, not really."   
  
"It's okay," Frank says immediately, sensing that Matt is not at all comfortable talking about that time. "We definitely don't have to talk about that."   
  
"How long did you get suspended for?" Matt asks, changing the subject. He doesn't have a lot of grace about it, but he's an eighth grader. They aren't necessarily known for their ability to do things without being awkward. "I hate that you got in trouble..."   
  
"Don't worry about it," Frank says immediately, shaking his head. "I get into trouble all the time. It's always over stupid shit like this. I promise I'll survive, even if it's a bad situation, and those jackasses who went after you will definitely think twice. It's a win-win situation."   
  
"If you say so..."   
  
"I do say so."   
  
"Okay," Matt says awkwardly. "Well, I just wanted to thank you. I have to go...home now."

\---

Frank doesn't really think of Matt Murdock for a little while after that. He's got school stuff to make up, his parents are mad at him, and there's just too much going on to think about anything else.   
  
He runs into Matt, in the same place he'd found him being attacked, a week later.   
  
"Hey kid," he says, calling him over. The boy tilts his head in Frank's direction and immediately walks over. "How are you doing? Those jerks bothering you anymore?"   
  
The boy shakes his head.  
  
"No, they haven't even looked at me," he says, and then he smiles. That smile makes Frank happy. "I can't even thank you enough."   
  
"No need to thank me."  
  
"Yes, there is," Matt says, and his voice, once again, sounds way too intense for a young kid. "You're a real hero."  
  
"I don't really think there is such a thing," Frank tells him, and then regrets it, almost immediately. Yeah, he can be really negative and stuff, but there's no reason for him to drag a middle-schooler into that. "Thanks though. I appreciate it."   
  
"My dad was a hero," Matt says. "Want me to show you?"  
  
"Yeah, I'd like that."   
  
To Frank's surprise, Matt doesn't lead him to a little house in the suburban neighborhood next to the school. Instead, they head the other way. Matt leads him to an orphanage, one that's attached to a large Catholic church.  
  
"You live here?" Frank asks.  
  
"Yes," Matt says, walking up to the door and opening it for Frank. Frank passes into the building. Something about it makes him feel tense, uncomfortable. "I've lived here since my father was killed..."   
  
Frank stops in his tracks. He hadn't expected that.   
  
Matt looks over at Frank. A small smile crosses his face. Maybe that's what makes him sound so old sometimes.   
  
"Yeah, I know it sounds intense," Matt says with a whisper. "He was killed a few years ago. He was a hero though. I want to show you."   
  
"Matthew?"   
  
Both boys turn around. Frank sees a middle-aged nun standing in front of them. She looks between them skeptically.  
  
"Who is this, Matthew?" she asks.   
  
"This is Frank," Matt says, quickly. "He's my friend from school. He's going to come see some of my dad's old stuff. Is that okay?"  
  
With the nun's permission, Frank and Matt head up to a tiny room. Frank is still reeling from the fact that the kid's blind, an orphan, and his dad was murdered. That's a heavy load for anyone and makes him feel thankful for his life, odd relationship with his parents, his violent tendencies and all.

Matt goes underneath the little bed at the corner of the room. He rifles underneath, and pulls out an old cardboard shoe box. He stands up and walks over to the end of his bed. He then sits on the floor, cross-legged.   
  
"Sit down next to me," Matt says, quietly.   
  
Frank sits down, watching as the younger boy opens up the box. He takes out a picture. It's a glossy, professional-grade picture of a man - a boxer, obviously. He hands it over to Frank, and Frank takes it.   
  
"I know it's silly to keep this, since I can't see it," Matt admits, a faint redness crossing his face. "But, you can, so I guess that's something. This is my dad."  
  
"Battlin' Jack Murdock," Frank says out loud, reading the caption underneath the photograph. "Was he famous?"   
  
"Sort of. I mean, he lost - a lot. He still had people who were big fans, of course. I was a big fan..."   
  
"You said that he was murdered," Frank murmurs, quietly. He doesn't really know how to bring up things that are delicate, but he cares about Matt, so he tries his best to be sensitive. "Who murders some random boxer?"   
  
"He was involved with bad people," Matt murmurs, sadness in his expression that's just downright heartbreaking. "Mob type people. They wanted him to throw this fight..."   
  
"He didn't."   
  
"No," Matt murmurs, looking down at the box. Inside is everything that he has of his father's, just a few little odds and ends. He picks out a gold ring and turns it over in his hand. "He won. It was one of the best fights I'd ever heard."   
  
Matt lowers his head. The glasses prevent Frank from seeing for sure, but he's pretty sure the kid is crying. It takes a lot for a pre-teen boy to open up and cry in front of someone, but Frank's not about to make fun of him.   
  
"He didn't give up," Frank says, trying to be encouraging, even though he secretly thinks that Matt's father was an idiot. From what Matt was saying, he sounded like he knew he'd get killed if he didn't throw the fight. Doing that to a kid seemed like a shitty thing to do. "He didn't give up on being the best he could be. That's really brave."   
  
"He's my hero, because of all of that," Matt murmurs, shrugging his shoulder. "Do you and your parents get along?"  
  
"We get on okay, sometimes," Frank replies, feeling awkward. He knows that he's lucky to even have parents. "I mean, we fight a lot, especially when I do things like I did with those assholes from earlier. They don't exactly approve of the whole 'solving things with violence' thing."   
  
"I don't think many parents would," Matt says with a nod. "Do you get into fights a lot, Frank?"  
  
Frank thinks about how to answer this. It's hard to say, honestly. One person's version of 'a lot' was different than another's.   
  
"I do sometimes," he says, deciding that is the best answer that he can give. "I mean, I try not to, because getting in trouble sucks, but there are times - like with what happened to you - that I can't exactly help it. It's like...I have to."   
  
"I think you're really brave," Matt says, quietly. He looks down at his hands, but Frank knows that he's not really _looking_ exactly, because he can't. "I think that you're really brave, but it kind of worries me that you could get hurt really badly."   
  
"I won't get hurt," Frank says, insistently. "I promise."   
  
"That's a stupid promise," Matt replies. "My dad used to say: 'if you put yourself in the ring, then you're bound to get hurt.' He was talking about boxing, literally, but there's a deeper meaning there that would make my English teacher proud."   
  
That makes Frank laugh.  
  
"Yeah, I guess your old man had a point," he admits, stretching.   
  
"Have you ever been hurt in a fight?" Matt asks.  
  
"Once or twice," Frank admits. "The last time, this big guy broke my nose."   
  
"What did he do?"   
  
"He was messing with his girlfriend," Frank admits. "They're both seniors. He was trying to get her to...do stuff, that she didn't want to do."   
  
"It's okay, I get what you mean," Matt laughs. "I'm twelve, not two, okay? And that's sick. I'm really glad that you took care of him. You're really good at protecting people who need protecting. You're like a superhero or something like that."   
  
"I could never pull off the suit," Frank says, trying to make light of Matt's words. Even as he tries to make light of them, though, he has to admit to what they mean to him.

"You don't have to wear spandex," Matt replies with a chuckle. "I mean, you could break the mold and be your own kind of superhero."   
  
"I could, maybe."   
  
"What do you think you want to do after high school?" Matt asks. "I mean, aside from finding a better alternative to the superhero suit, of course."   
  
Frank lays back on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. Somehow able to tell what he's doing, Matt does the same.   
  
"I'm probably going to join the military in one way or another," Frank says. "I talked to a recruiter earlier this year. I'm not sure what branch, but I think it's probably my best bet. I'm not that great in school subjects, and I really want to make some kind of a difference out there."   
  
"That's really cool," Matt murmurs. "I think that you'd be good at that. Defending people. You're good at keeping people safe..."   
  
"What about you?" Frank asks. He isn't really sure that he wants to talk about the future, because it's a terrifying subject and he's very unsure where he'll end up. "What do you want to be?"  
  
"I want to help defend people too," Matt murmurs. His voice is quiet, and Frank can tell that he's sad. "I want to make sure that stuff like what happened to my dad never happens again. I want to make sure that bad guys don't get away with what they do."   
  
"So, like a cop or something?"   
  
From the corner of his eye, he sees the blind boy sit up and shoot him a look.   
  
"Seen many blind cops lately?"   
  
Frank winces a little. His comment had definitely been stupid. Of course the kid couldn't be a cop, not in a traditional sense.   
  
"Sorry..."   
  
"It's okay," Matt says, as Frank sits up and leans against the end of the bed. "I know what I want to do anyway, but it's going to probably be very hard."   
  
"What is it?"   
  
"I want to be a lawyer. I've done some research on them. I can be a defense lawyer and protect people. I can help put away people who deserve it. There's a lot of crime here..."   
  
"Sure is," Frank said, with a bitter laugh. "I think you'd make a pretty awesome lawyer, Matt."   
  
Matt positively beams at Frank's words. Frank can tell that they mean a lot to the kid, and that makes him feel pretty important.   
  
"Thanks," he says.   
  
"I may need a lawyer in the future," Frank says with a laugh. "Especially if people keep deserving it."   
  
"I'll defend you," Matt teases. "Promise."


End file.
